The Man That Was A Soldier
by JustAnotherImagine
Summary: The Tale of Captain Nicholls and his sweetheart (Elizabeth); before he joins the army, when he becomes Captain, before and after he goes to war , the cavalry charge. Then he falls asleep for a few decades. When he wakes in the 21st century, he tries to track down Elizabeth's grave, which leads to friendship and overcoming his grief leading to new love and a new life.
1. Chapter 1

The Man That Was A Soldier

**The Tale of Captain Nicholls and his sweetheart (Elizabeth); before he joins the army, when he becomes Captain, before and after he goes to war (he doesn't die in this fic, the cavalry charge. The he falls asleep for a few decades. When he wakes in the 21****st**** century, he tries to track down his sweethearts grave, when he finds her, his grieving and his healing process, which leads him to a new friend, new love and new life. **

**Elizabeth's POV:**

James and I walk hand through the courtyard on my father's grand estate. A gentle breeze blows through the trees as James leads me to a stone bench. He and I had been courting for almost a year now. He was a fine man and many a young lady were after him, not only was he a good looking gentleman, he was also one of the best academics around and had a very good carer ahead of him. But that wasn't why I wanted him, no, I love him genuinely. For who is, so today, when he arrived at my front porch, well dressed and nervous, I expected that he was going to ask me to marry him. But we've just been on a very long walk and I'm beginning to think that he doesn't want to propose to me at all!

"Sit down Elizabeth." He asks gently. I sit, half expecting him to get down on one knee but instead, he sits next to me, hands clasped in front of him, moving his knee up and down slightly. My stomach starts doing flips and my heart flutters as he prepare his words. "I just-" he starts.

"Yes James?" I encourage, I feel my heart jumping into my mouth.

"I don't know how to say this." He states nervously. There's something in his demeanour that I can't quite place and suddenly, I feel afraid of what he may say next.

"Elizabeth, I'm going to join the military. Or more specifically, the cavalry." He blurts.

The military! I sit in stunned silence as I let my jaw drop.

"Please darling, say something." James pleads after letting the news sink in.

I want to slap him, knock some sense into him somehow. He can't join the military, he'll be killed! Doesn't he realise that! He has plenty of opportunities to become a professor or politician or business man and he wants to join the army! I stare at James waiting for a reaction until I realise, he's still waiting for me to say something.

"Well, I think you're making a mistake." I state promptly, "But if you want to risk your life for king and country, be my guest. Just," I falter on y next words, "please be careful. I." Oh I may as well say it! "I love you James." James breaks into a smile and inches closer to me until we are just centimetres apart.

"I love you too." He whispers. I turn my head so that our noses touch. I look into his golden brown eyes, a few golden drops of sun catching in his iris. But he closes his eyes and so do I. I move my lips towards his and he presses his lips on mine. They are soft, gentle and oh so sweet! Like honey! He pulls away slowly, my lips still tingling from the feeling of his mouth on mine, my cheeks burning. I hunger for more, but the sun is burning a deep orange and is setting quickly. Already stars are shining in the deepening blue sky above us. James, still smiling, takes me by the hand and we walk arm in arm to my front porch.

"I'm afraid I won't see you again for another two months as I complete my training." He says sadly, "But I've enjoyed our time together."

"So have I. I can't wait for you to come home already, and you haven't even left my property!" I state forcing a smile. I feel tears pricking my eyes, "But I must ask, why didn't you tell me all this before?"

"I knew you would try and talk me out of it. But I want to follow in my father's footsteps and you know I've always considered military service." He replies.

I nod, my throat burning, "Well, I wish you didn't have to go but I understand how you would want to make your father proud. He joined at your age didn't he?"

"Yes." James replies.

"And that's why you signed up isn't it? Because you want to honour his memory?" I ask. James simply nods. "Well in that case, I'm proud of you." I smile, genuinely but a tear escapes me.

"Thank you darling. I knew you would see reason." He smiles as he wipes away my rogue tears. "Don't cry now, We will see each other again." He assure me. Again, I nod in fear my voice will crack and I'll start sobbing. He takes my hand, gives me a quick yet comforting kiss in the cheek, before turning and walking down the road to his home. I watch him walk until he's out of my sight, then I run straight to my bedroom and start crying. My James, going to the military, I should be proud. I am proud! I just wish he didn't have to go so soon!


	2. Chapter 2

Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months and in those months, James climbed the ranks very quickly. It was eight months before James and I got to see each other again and that was at a party held by one of father's friends. We had been in correspondence but he never mentioned anything about going to the party.

It was a warm sunshiny day, a cool breeze blowing through occasionally. There were lots of men in uniform and ladies in beautiful dresses all vying for a young man's attention. Father was introducing me to a Captain Jamie something or other, I wasn't really paying attention because I had seen James. He was standing by a water fountain with two other men in uniform. I couldn't help but stare at him. He looked so different, so handsome! His gold brown hair hardly visible underneath his cap, his skin slightly more tanned than I remember. I peel myself away from my father and the captain and make my way towards James, not taking any notice of the world around me.

"James?" I ask tenetively. He turns to me, grinning.

"Elizabeth!" he exclaims taking me into his arms, "What are you doing here?"

"I came with father. What are you doing here?" I say excited.

"I'm a lieutenant now." He states proudly, "And I came with my regiment." He adds.

"Oh I'm so proud of you!" I exclaim kissing his cheek. A voice clears their throat and James looks past me.

"Oh I'm sorry! How rude of me!" he apologises. I turn to face the man and woman standing behind me. Another officer, dark hair, hazel eyes, tanned skin that must once have been as pale as James' and freckles. The woman looked remarkably similar, she was petite, had golden hair but the same eyes and mouth. They smiled, as did I, they looked much friendlier now. "Eliz -Sorry, Miss Sorenson, Lieutenant Charlie Waverly and his younger sister Fiona.

"Pleased to finally meet you." Lt Waverly grinned holding out his hand, "James has told me much about you." I grinned at James as the lieutenant kissed my hand gently. "You had better keep a close eye on her James, I might just pinch her from you." We laugh but James is still weary of Charlie's words, even if it was just a joke.

"Would you like some punch?" James asks turning to me when Charlie and his sister leave.

"Yes please, I'm parched." I walk arm in arm with James to the punch bowl, the tables filled with food and around the gardens. In the evening, the soldiers were able to ask the ladies for a dance by moonlight. I never left James' arms except for the dance Lieutenant Waverly took over as James went to talk with his commanding officer.

It was midnight when the fireworks started. There was a big boom, causing me to jump and James' arm to wrap around me tightly. There were red ones and blue ones and green and yellow. I couldn't keep my eyes off the sky. But James could. I felt him staring at me and I blushed. He leant in close, his lips tickling my ear, before I turned my head causing our lips to crash onto the other's. My eye lids drop as I let his lips take me far away. To a nice little cottage in the country with a fire going, food cooking in the kitchen, a dog, two children with their father's gold brown eyes and winning smile and James! Our lips part as the fireworks die down and he envelopes me in his arms. We stand watching the stars, not wanting the night to end. Thankfully, the soldiers don't have a curfew and the day off, so my father agrees to let James stay at our house for the night.

I don't remember going to sleep. I only remember walking through the garden with James. Apparently there was a war about to break out and he was going to be promoted to Captain. As part of the cavalry, he would be one of the first to go to war. Once the infantrymen won the ground of course, but we wouldn't have any time together until the days before he leaves. I promised him I'd be there to say goodbye. The last thing I remember is sitting with him on the grass, star gazing.

I roll over on my bed and find a note on my bedside table along with a freshly cut, long stemmed, red rose. I unfold the letter, and I can almost feel his hand on the paper.

My Dearest Elizabeth,

I had a wonderful time yesterday. It was absolutely delightful seeing you at the officer's party. I had been thinking of you often when I was training. I felt unbelievably happy when I got to hold you in my arms again, hear your sweet voice, call you mine.

I'm leaving this note because I didn't get the chance to say goodbye to you properly. You had fallen into slumber by moonlight. You looked so angelic darling, I didn't want to rouse you, so I carried you to bed and tucked you in, much to the horror of your maid.

You missed my proclamation of love last night. Yes Elizabeth, I love you. You must know that before I leave. I so wanted to tell you in person but you had fallen asleep before I got the chance. Time is not our friend tonight darling and I'm afraid I must leave you. So goodnight and goodbye for now.

Much love,

Your James.


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry it took so long. I got a bit busy and had writer's block but I'm getting over it now and I hope you enjoy this.**

It was months before we could see each other again, and even then it was after the war with Germany had been declared and he was going to say goodbye. Another bittersweet day.

We wandered aimlessly around the training camp, arm inarm, letting other couples pass us as we sat on another stone bench and talked. It was only small talk, no deep conversations, too scared to talk about the future. I was more interested in just having him with me one last time before. Well anything can happen and I'm sure the war wouldn't take James. It'll be over by Christmas.

The park is bare, full of soldiers and officers in uniform. James shows me his horse, Joey. He picked him up in Devon from a boy named Albert, lied openly about his age just to be with his horse. I can see why, he's a beautiful creature. After showing off, we walk around some more, mostly in silence, but I prefer having him next to me, simply enjoying his touch instead of meaningless small talk. He looks so different to what he did all those months ago, more sophisticated, mature, and much more handsome, I never thought it possible!

At last it was time to say our goodbyes. James' arms envelope me and his chin rests on my shoulder. I burry my face in his sleeve, trying to hold back my tears.

"Don't go." I whisper fervently, "Please don't go."

"I'll be fine darling." He reassures, his voice almost cracking, "It'll be over by Christmas."

"I'll miss you!" I whisper.

"I'll miss you too. But I promise to write you." He replies. He pulls me away slightly, just our heads, before leaning down and kissing me gently. Our lips part, then lock again for a few sweet moments.

"I love you. Remember that." He smiles, his eyes glistening.

"I love you too." I reply, trying my best not to sob. I don't want his last memory of me to be a sad one. My father calls and I have to drag myself away from James's arms.

"I'll be home for Christmas!" He calls before we join the thickening crowd at the gates.

"I know!" I call back over the crowd. We smile at each other one last time before I walk, holding my father's arm for support, out of the gates and away from James.

"Don't you worry your pretty little heart over him dear, the war will be won by Christmas." He reassures me, kissing my forehead as I start to sob.

"Over by Christmas."

"It'll be over by Christmas."

"We'll have won by Christmas.

"It'll be over by Christmas." The murmurs grow louder and louder and I want to scream, "Can Christmas be over already!"

In my dreams, Christmas never comes, the months drag on and on for years. But when Christmas finally does come, it brings home the ghosts of men that were once jovial and full of spirit, now there are just men of old, men like my uncle who died in the Boer war, thickening all around me. I see the dead and the dying, I see all the soldiers from the officer's party and those from tonight. I see Charlie and James' commanding officer, Major Jaimie Stewart, but no matter where I look, I can't find James. I see all the soldiers except for James. Even Joey doesn't come. I ask the ghosts around me, "Where is James? Has anyone seen my James?" I'm screaming, shouting but the only answer I get is, "It'll be over by Christmas. We'll be home for Christmas. We'll have won by Christmas. I'll see you at Christmas. Christmas. "


	4. Chapter 4

**This chapter may not be as good as the other ones because I've had writer's block again and I expect you've either seen the movie or read the book. Okay well I'll admit that the beginning of the chapter could've been better but the more you read, the better it gets. Well that's my thoughts anyway. Hope you like it! **

**James**

After excessive training in London, our last practise being the Salisbury Formation where I beat Jaimie on Joey, we were sent to France. It must have been beautiful with all the war, green all around, beautiful weather. But all around us were signs of battle, craters in paddocks, houses caving in, homeless poverty stricken men, women and children. Such a sad sight.

As the officers set up tents and stalls for the horses in the shelter of a wood, Jaimie and I talk of formations and horses and to be quite honest, I'm sick of it! I listen and talk when necessary but I really I really just want to talk of something else. I'm nervous. This isn't like any practise, this is real. We'll be advancing towards the enemy on horseback and we'll be made to fight on horseback. We may even die on horseback! Thankfully, Jaimie leaves and Charlie comes in talking about his new cap.

It's now or never. I walk over to Joey, thank Perkins and reassure Joey. Well reassure myself I suppose, by talking to him. I'm sure he understands. Jaimie calls us to lead the horses as quietly as possible to the wheat fields nearby. The wheat is long and tan, the perfect cover. Nervously, I take Joey's bridle and lead him to the field. He can sense my nerves and now he's jittery, but not as jittery as Charlie's poor mount. Poor Charlie. He tries to hide his nerves but you can't fool anyone with a horse like his. He glances over at me and the best I can do is manage a reassuring smile, I guess it worked because he lets out a sigh and the horse seems to be calming down. Amazing what a smile can do. We take our places, I'm second to the edge up front, well at least it'll be easier to save a life this way. Let the bullet hit me instead of the poor bloke next to me. At this point it's the least I can do for anyone. For the next few minutes, I think of home, the crisp air in the paddocks, the greenery, the smell of hot roast on a Sunday, then Elizabeth comes flooding into my mind. Everywhere I turn, she's there, smiling, "You can do this James." She smiles, "You can get through this. Just this charge and you can come home." And then she laughs. I close my eyes and smile, remembering her scent, like roses and her eyes – the whistle. I open my eyes to the field before me and remember the task on hand. This charge, just this one and then I'll be one battle closer to the end and before I know it, it'll be Christmas. Joey stands and I mount with the rest of my regiment. How many of us are going to die today? How many will survive? How many horses will make it through this? How many of us are going to end up wounded? How many would be better off dead?

"Draw swords!" I hear the major order.

"Good luck my friends." I say to those around me. Nods and weak smiles answer me and I turn to face the front.

"Forward March!" Major Stewart orders. Joey's steps are strong and sure but he's nervous as well.

"Forward canter!" Jaimie yells and we rush through the crops, destroying everything in our path. As we near the end of the field, I raise my sword above my head and involuntarily yell, "Charge!" We all rush forward into the clearing, the sound of horses hooves pounding in my ears and the cries of the men resonating through the sky. We spread out now to cover more ground as we charge through the camp, we jump over tents and tables as well as slaying men as they try to escape. We run for about two hundred metres as the enemy runs into the woods where they seem to think they'll be safe. "You can't escape the English cavalry!" I think to myself. But then I hear a rumble and chattering that ca only mean one thing. There are men in the woods and they've got guns, and not just any guns either. These aren't pistols or rifles, these are different. They're monsters. I can only hope and pray I don't get hit as I charge closer to the enemy but with men and horses falling around me, I can only hope Joey doesn't take a bullet.

I'm close enough now to see the outline of the beasts when something of great force hits my shoulder. My right hand goes limp and my left hand flies to wher I've been shot. Losing my grip on the reigns, and with the side of my leg burning, I jolt my foot out of the stirrup and slide of Joey. I hit the ground on my back, crying out as horses rush past me. I make a few luck escapes as horses ooves come within inches of my injured body. I look down at my leg, it's bleeding but not as much I thought it would. I try and sit up when I realise it's probably not the best idea unless I want to get knocked out by horse in my own regiment. So I stay as still as I can, inching ever so slowly away from the enemy without getting up and running. That would be cowardice. I should probably get up and advance toward the beasts that have taken many good men's lives within a few short minutes, but what good would that do? I'd just be another body that achieved absolutely nothing. So as I lay on the ground facing the mid-afternoon French sky, I think of what I can do to save other men's lives.

After what seems like hours of the sound of bullets and cries of the dying and shouts of profanities, the beasts finally stop roaring. I take a quick glance around and about ten meters behind me, I spot Charlie and his fancy new cap. Smiling, I flip on my stomach and start using my hands to pull me ever so slowly up to him. It burns my shoulder and my leg aches. It's hard not to cry out in pain. It's even harder still not to cry out when I realise I'm crawling through dead man's blood and having to hide amongst them. Tears sting my eyes when I'm about two metres away from Charlie. He lies on his back, facing the sun. He's bleeding from his stomach and one of his arms has been ripped to shreds, it would be better if he was dead but the poor man still lives. His breaths are shallow and he's trying very hard to keep quiet. The man never like to cause much of a fuss, not even if he was in pain. Or dying. Like he is now, so I crawl over to him, at a diagonal angle.

"Charlie." I call out as loudly as I dare when I'm less than a metre away from him, the Huns are cautiously emerging from behind the guns now.

"James. Is that you?" Charlie mumbles, his words only just audible and full of pain.

"Yes, it's me." I reply holding back tears. My arm burns and my best friend is bleeding to death before my eyes. Oh and I'm covered in dead man's blood, trying to hide from the Germans.

"When you get home," he starts, his voice a harsh whisper, "Tell Rose I love her. And," he gulps, "I'm sorry I won't get to marry her. Or meet our child. Tell her I'm sorry." His words are now nothing more than a whisper. I stay with him, silently, words are meaningless now. How can I tell him everything will be fine when it won't? How can I tell him I'll survive when the Huns are approaching and checking for the dead and ready to kill the living? How can I tell him he'll get through this, that he'll survive when he's dying in front of my eyes? What can I say that has any meaning at all in this nightmare? But I suppose a lie, no matter how far from the truth it may be, would be comforting at this point. I open my mouth to tell him something along the lines of "Everything will be alright." But instead, I refer to his last request and whisper.

"I promise Charlie. I promise." I watch his mouth contort and his last breath escape him. Silent tears are running down my face now. For a moment, I forget about the Huns, about those dying around me, about everything, because I've just witnessed my best friend die. The least I can do for him now, is say goodbye, and I do that by closing his eyes. The heat of the sun and the sickness in my stomach is the last thing I remember before a blow to the head.

I wake up in a small tent, it's shabby and dirty and there are fourteen other men in with me. I scan the faces of the soldiers of my regiment, a few officers and lieutenants, a few new recruits but the face that stands out most to me is Major Stewart's.

"Jaimie?" I whisper hoarsely. I really need a drink.

"James? You're alive?" He asks as he walks slowly over to me through a group of about six men. Jaimie's made it through relatively untouched.

"Where are we?" I ask.

"Buckingham Palace, where do you think? We're in a prisoner's of war camp." He answers sarcastically.

I walk over to the metal bars that separate us from the German soldiers, trying to remember the little German I learnt from my cousin Fred when he taught me one holiday when he came back from his year abroad when a German officer unlocks the door, he looks shocked to see me, but he opens the door for me, grasps my arm and leads me hurriedly away from my regiment.

"What on earth is happening here?" I think as we walk through the camp and into a tent with machines and tools I cannot even begin to comprehend. The guard walks me to the table and says something in German I don't understand, so he gestures to the table and cautiously, I sit. That's when a man in a white coat appears and tries to get me to lean back on the table. But I don't go down without a fight. It takes six guards to hold me down and three to inject a needle into my arm. My fight to keep my eyes open from the drug is futile and even though I tell myself to stay awake, I'm under the influence before I can manage a final struggle.

"But I promised." I think before I lose consciousness, "I promised."


	5. Chapter 5

**Whatever you do DO NOT listen to **_**As Long As You Love Me**_** or any sad song whilst reading this chapter. I did and I started crying. So unless you want a feels fest, don't listen to anything sad toward the end of the chapter.**__

**James**

I wake up in a small, bare, white room. I sit up and find there's now pain in my elbow. I look down at my stomach and find myself in a thin white robe. I look around the room, there are two bedside tables next to my bed. I turn my attention to the bed, white mattress, white blanket, feels stronger than I remember, but then I remember a bare wooden table not a bed with a mattress. I take in the rest of the room, white door, wooden drawers. Completely different to what I remember from how long ago? I swing my legs to the side of the bed to test my leg strength. My feet touch the cold unknown ground and, slowly, I stand. I keep a hand resting on the bed as I take a step forward. I'm fine but cautiously, I take my hand of the bed and walk a few steps, that's when my feet fumble and I fall to the ground. My hands took the weight thankfully but they can't support my weight for long and I fall into the floor. Luckily I don't hit my head on the floor but I carefully rest my ear on the ground. I hear a door open and someone comes in, a young woman by the sound of her voice, "Are you alright sir? What happened? Can you get up?" she asks. I try and push myself up but I can't. "Stay there, I'm gonna go get some help." She instructs. Well it's not like I'm going anywhere if I can't move. I close my eyes, and sleep comes much easier than it should.

I wake again and this time I have people in white coats and strange instruments standing over me. My immediate reaction is to get away from them and back to my regiment.

"It's alright. We're friends." A female voice from nowhere states gently. I turn my head to the right and find a young woman, petite, olive skinned, shoulder length brown hair and charming hazel eyes smiling at me. Her smile reassures me and for a moment I allow myself to stare at her, I'm not sure why but I find her captivating. But then my thoughts turn to Elizabeth. Where is she? Where am I? Does she know I'm alive has no word been able to get out?

"Elizabeth." I whisper. An older bald man in a white coat gives me a sad smile. I know something's wrong.

"Where am I? Who are you?" I ask and another thought comes to me, "Are you English?" I'm sitting up now. "Where's Elizabeth?"

"I'm sorry but this is going to take a lot of explanation that we can't give you right now." The bald man answers.

"What do you mean you can't explain it? I need answers." I demand. I'm worried now, and getting annoyed, these people know the answers I need but won't give them to me. Why?

"I'm sorry sir but you've just woken up and we don't want to load everything onto you right now." The girl on my right states almost sadly.

A man clears their throat.

"Ahem, sorry. There's something we can't tell you right now because we don't want you to become stressed. We're very sorry." She corrects herself before looking over to her superior officer who must be the doctor.

"I'm sorry. What my, ahem, colleague means to say is that we can't give you any answers right now because they will be a lot to take in. And after being asleep for as long as you have, we would rather tell you slowly as not to alarm you. There's a lot that you won't understand or even believe, trust me, we're still not quite sure we believe ourselves." He says as he walks over to the foot of my bed.

"Well can you tell me where I am?" I ask cautiously. I'm not too sure I trust these people.

"London." The girl chirps. I look at her and smile. At last some good news!

"2013." Another, younger man, in another white coat with glasses adds.

"2013?" I scoff, "It's 1914! I was just in France a few weeks ago! The cavalry just arrived!"

The petite girl comes over to my side, sits on a chair I didn't notice was there and takes my hand, rubbing it gently, and it soothes me down a bit.

"I'm sorry," she starts, "but this is 2013. You've been asleep for ninety nine years. The war is over. We won."

I'm alert now. I yank my hand back and swing my legs over the left side of my bed and am about to walk through the door when the bald haired doctor grabs my arm and tells me to go back to bed. But I don't listen to him. I'm a soldier! I have the right to logical answers! This isn't 2013! It's still 1914! Why am I getting treated like a madman? I swing the door open and walk out. As a breeze, that comes from seemingly thin air hits my body, I realise I'm only in a thin white robe and people in the strangest clothes either stare at me or keep walking. The ones that stare are generally children and even they look different. They play with small lighted boxes. I'm worried that they will catch on fire and I'm about to tell them to be careful when a hand grasps my elbow and drags me inside.

"It's not 1914 is it soldier?" a new man, close shaved black hair, brown eyes and familiar nose asks me. This man looks very familiar. How? It must be the uniform. "Is it?" he asks forcing me out of my thoughts.

"No. It's not." I reply.

"Captain James Nicholls I assume?" He asks the bald doctor.

"Yes." He replies.

The soldier walks toward me and circles me, looking at me from head to toe. At last something familiar, if slightly embarrassing.

"So you're the man my grandparents talked often about? Well, it's certainly an honour to meet you." He smiles when he stops in front of me and offers his hand. I take it and we shake, his hands firm and shake strong but it's over quickly.

"The name's Henry James Stewart." He adds.

"Stewart? Jaimie Stewart is?" I can't ask the question. It seems so absurd.

"My grandfather. Yes. I believe he was your commanding officer?"

"Yes." I say. "But I don't remember him having any, ahem, lady friends."

"Yes. Well when the war was over, in 1918, a letter was sent to him by a Miss Elizabeth Sorenson. A friend of yours I believe? And she just wanted to know how you were during the war and if you were still alive. Of course, he thought you were dead and well, they grieved with each other, became friends and after a few years, got married." He explains.

My jaw drops. Elizabeth, married to Jaimie? I can't believe it! I don't want to believe it! But this boy looks so familiar. I see both of them in him. I don't want to believe this, so I don't. I walk over to my bed, ask everyone to leave while I try and make sense of the news I have just been given. Once I hear the door shut behind me, I crawl under the covers and lay my head on the pillow. I close my eyes and think about their situation. Surely not! Not my Elizabeth! We! She! Somehow, as these questions flood my mind, I manage to fall asleep. But one question manages to haunt me. Does Elizabeth still live?


End file.
